


Honey kill the lights, kiss my eyes

by thisisbroken



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (“Closer” by Nine Inches Nail starts playing), Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes is Horny Depression On Main, Established Relationship, In Which Bucky Barnes Pines And Is Horny About It, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Porn with Feelings, Top Bucky Barnes, not actually depression he just misses Tony a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisbroken/pseuds/thisisbroken
Summary: Bucky still felt close togaggingon the pureneedtwisting up his insides, an awful radiating emptiness leaking into his veins.He could feel it at the back of his tongue, in his throat. So sharp it made his teeth ache, his jaw clenched tight.-Tony has been away for weeks; Bucky finds it less thanideal.





	Honey kill the lights, kiss my eyes

Bucky’s hands tightened inside the boxing gloves, muscles straining as he threw punch after punch at the gym bag, pent up tension thrumming throughout his body like a live wire each passing second.

He didn’t know how long he had been at it, had stopped keeping track of time after the first couple of hours. 

Despite his many efforts to distract or tire himself out, including drastically increasing his _socialising_ so that he had seen more people in the past 2 weeks than he usually would in 3 _months_ , he had woken up to find the restless energy, which had started like a slow burn itch under his skin a week ago, had crescendoed, turned into an unbearable and aching bleakness.

He had taken off for the gym soon after, stubbornly determined to outrun his brain.

So far, though, beating up the punching bag hadn’t done anything to make him less wound up. Neither had going rounds with his favourite sniper rifle, nor running dozens of laps, nor doing hundreds of increasingly elaborate push-ups. 

Bucky still felt close to _gagging_ on the pure _need_ twisting up his insides, an awful radiating emptiness leaking into his veins.

He could feel it at the back of his tongue, in his throat. So sharp it made his teeth ache, his jaw clenched tight.

It burnt like swallowing down mouthfuls of liquid heat, each breath stoking the undercurrent of _hunger_ , sparking bright white in his abdomen.

His blood was simmering with the desire to _touch_ , to _taste,_ to _clutch, bite;_ heart thumping against his ribcage as though urging him to hunt down the one thing that made him burn with _want_. Over and over, flashes of messy black hair splayed on rumpled sheets, of hot, pleasure-molten gaze played out in Bucky’s mind. _Tony._

God, _Tony._

Spread out like a feast, toned muscles and olive skin delicious against deep red satin. Precious and beautiful as he let Bucky open him up and savour him whole, letting Bucky cherish every bit of _Tony Stark_ , body and heart and soul; a gift beyond anything Bucky could have even dreamed of, and which he would never stop being amazed at having been given.

Because Bucky never could seem to help himself, couldn’t imagine ever being able to resist touching and tasting that sweet, sensual body, worshipping it all; from Tony’s leanly defined arms and upper back, firm muscles straining when he arched up; to the narrow waist, Bucky’s large hands nearly spanned the whole width of it, his thumbs fitting neatly under sharp hipbones, and it made his mouth go dry and his breathing harsh; to the full, sultry curves of his ass, the soft cheeks squeezed and spread apart under Bucky’s palms; down to Tony’s pretty hole, rim reddened from Bucky’s insistent fingers, slick with lube and spit.

It was already unfair how _desirable_ Tony normally was, but laid out before Bucky, looking like all kinds of sin, like the most welcoming invitation, Tony was downright _irresistible_.

His darling doll, golden all over, full lips red and well kissed, eyes dark like whiskey, rimmed with pretty eyelashes that turned even prettier clumped with tears when he would sob and cry out in pleasure.

Tony’s clever hands, those thin elegant fingers and calloused palms, were made for creating wonders, but they looked and felt just as lovely whilst gripping the bed sheet or the headboard, or wrapped around Bucky’s cock and stroking sweetly, or digging into Bucky’s shoulders, or sharply pulling at Bucky’s hair when the tension became too much.

No, Bucky couldn’t imagine ever stop being utterly riveted, enthralled, everything that was _Bucky Barnes_ irrevocably spellbound and seized, by the thought of pressing Tony down, folding him in; the thought of opening Tony up, making space (a _home_ ) for Bucky inside him.

Couldn’t ever look at Tony and not be moved to pull him into Bucky’s arms, pressed up against Bucky’s body, as close as physically possible, and then still wanting a bit _more_. Couldn’t ever not be so _desperate_ , so _greedy_ in his desire for the intimacy of their bodies being joined together, connected; for sinking into Tony’s tight, wet core, being sheathed in that intoxicating heat, like coming home, like being _found_ (something lost out in the bitter cold, recovered and grounded).

Every time Bucky would carefully coax Tony’s body into softening with firm touches and sweet caresses, tongue pointed and licking _in_ , bionic thumb and finger teasing and catching on the sensitive rim. Every time Bucky would feel half out of his mind, like a parched feral thing, scraped raw and soothed at the same time by the deep-rooted _need_ that only flared brighter the more he touched and tasted, the more he _took_. The more Tony yielded, let go, the more he sobbed and begged.

And the man always begged so prettily, his Tony, choking out _“Bucky”_ and _“James”_ , gasping _“yes”_ and _“more”_ , _“_ _want you, honey”_ and _“want to be fucked full of your cock”_ , _“need to feel you come inside me”_ and _“please I’ll be good”_.

Needy whimpers and soft moans would pour out of Tony’s mouth like beads of sweat on flushed skin. Sometimes they would be muffled by Bucky’s mouth, or fingers, or cock, but they never failed to make Bucky’s stomach clench hotly all the same; not least because Tony Stark looked like the most tempting sin with Bucky’s fingers or cock in his mouth. The way that Tony so obviously enjoyed taking Bucky in, relishing in the weight on his tongue and throat, his pretty lashes demurely lowered, dark eyes going half-lidded in bliss as he licked and sucked.

Bucky had lost count of how many times he had come with his cock buried in Tony’s ass and two of his fingers sucked into Tony’s mouth, losing himself in the addicting wet warmth of Tony’s body.

God, but Bucky’s lover was _exquisite_.

No wonder Bucky couldn’t get _enough_ , could never get _enough_ , would always be _hungry_ for it, the heady burn crawling up his throat and making him choke on it, until he could bury himself in Tony and breathe the man in like air.

Now, though, in the gym, Bucky felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, and decided to catch the bag in his arms instead of throwing another punch. Hours of working out barely got him to break a sweat, but just thinking about _Tony_ left him a head drunk ( _love sick_ ) mess. Tony, who had left 2 weeks ago for some Important Business that only Tony Stark could handle, and 2 weeks shouldn’t make Bucky this _needy_ , but he _was_ , he _so was_.

They tried to talk every night, succeeded for the most part, there had even been a couple of video calls and Bucky suspected that was why he hadn’t gone _completely_ mad yet, but it was nowhere _near_ _enough_.

Bucky wanted, _craved_ to feel Tony in his arms again. Craved to be in Tony’s space, to get drunk and sated from his presence. Wanted to get hands and mouth on Tony and push into him, wanted to fuck Tony until they were both panting and near mindless, unable to stop clinging to each other. Wanted the delicious friction of skin against skin, wanted kisses like _firestorms_ , wanted to _devour_ and see the _proof_.

Because Tony bruised like a peach, and it’s _not_ _good,_ but the image of Tony covered from neck to calves in hickeys and sex bruises, the dark rings on Tony’s ass and hips and thighs from Bucky’s grip, evidence of Bucky’s momentary lapses of control, it made Bucky’s eyes feel hot, mouth watering. Made something rooted deep in him rumble in smug approval, as sedately satisfied as the cat that got both the cream and the canary.

The thought gave him pause sometimes, as Bucky hated violence, hated seeing it and doing it unless absolutely necessary, so he shouldn’t feel so _smitten_ , thinking about leaving bruises on the man he loved. He shouldn’t think of it as marking Tony as _his_ , shouldn’t be so _possessive_.

But _God_ if Tony didn’t make it so easy to _indulge_ , the way he would admire the marks Bucky gave him, tracing them with his eyes and fingers, the shyest little smile on his face. How he was always begging for _more_ , always saying he wanted _reminders_ so he could always feel Bucky on him, so he could be sure it had been _real_ , wanted to show to himself and Bucky both how much he was _Bucky’s_.  
  


Bucky bit down on his lower lips, resting his sweaty forehead on the punching bag and letting out a low growl in growing frustration.

Then, just as he went to gulp down some water, the sound of footsteps, familiar, reached his hearing range.

Immediately stilling, his focus turned laser sharp, Bucky’s breath slowed and went near silent, posture that of a prowling predator, patient and quietly dangerous.

And then his conscious mind confirmed what his gut already sensed; it was _Tony_ , coming this way. Bucky undid his gloves and threw them off, movement quick and efficient, and barely a few seconds later, Tony appeared at the door.

Before either of them could say anything, Bucky had pulled Tony in, pressing their bodies flush together, flesh hand cupping Tony’s jaw and pushing his face up towards Bucky’s, metal hand clutching his waist. They were locked in a kiss, limbs tangled, in the span of a few breaths.

It wasn’t patient, or gentle. Bucky’s teeth caught Tony’s lower lip and bit, his tongue pushed and probed, licking roughly at the soft inside of Tony’s mouth, re-mapping and relishing in the sweet, sorely missed taste of _Tony_.

He felt as Tony’s whole body racked with a shudder. Then, Tony _melted_ against him _,_ yielding soft and eager to Bucky’s hands and mouth. Tony’s body went all loose and _small_ , tucking himself sweetly into Bucky’s hold, a neat, perfect fit, easily letting Bucky propped up most of his weight. As if settling into his trusty security blanket, breathing easy now that he was _shielded_ from any danger; _God_ , Bucky wanted to _devour_ this man.

Wanted to _wreck_ him with love and tenderness and trust, _ruining_ him thoroughly with all things pleasurable and kind.

When they parted it was with gasping breaths, and Tony’s pretty lips curved up into a pleased half smirk, a little teasing, a little smouldering, dark eyes hot like liquid embers.

It made the flame in Bucky’s chest flare, heat roaring, made Bucky want to crowd in on this beautiful man and _croon_ to him, voice pitched low and adoring, to make him flush with desire.

And Tony was always such an adamant advocate for Bucky doing what he _wanted_ ; for Bucky to be more _selfish_.

_“_ _Missed_ _me, baby doll?”_

 _“I was just about to ask_ _you, soldier_ _.”_

(Bucky thought he had gotten pretty good at _selfish._ Got a velvet box hidden in his sock drawer as proof for the best kind of _selfish_ ; he couldn’t _wait_ to show Tony.)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “To Be Alone” by Hozier. 
> 
> Pure self-indulgence, as always. I’m weak. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!


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